


that one where Lance hits Keith with his car

by liddie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance is adorable, M/M, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), and a bit clueless, klance, vampire!keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 23:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14271489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liddie/pseuds/liddie
Summary: Lance doesn't expect to fall for the strange guy he hits with his car in the grocery store parking lot but here he is. And sure, Keith is a little weird (who doesn't know about flavored iced coffee in this day and age?) and quirky (did he just make a joke about bleeding out?) but he likes manga, cheap cup noodles and making Lance laugh. So really, how dangerous could he be?As Lance later finds out, more dangerous than his cup noodle packaging choice ever hinted at.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU began when I saw [this post on tumblr](http://vampireapologist.tumblr.com/post/171186628513/how-many-vampires-do-you-think-have-been-hit-by-a) and it was such a klance thing to me that I started to write some ideas out for it. I have a lot of it planned out so updates should come every other week or so.
> 
> Enjoy!

'It's a beautiful day for a trip to the grocery store,' Lance tells himself as he places the grocery bags in the trunk of his (yes, _his_ \- thanks to two grueling summers of lifeguard duty at both the beach and the local community pool!) ocean blue Ford Fiesta hatchback. Closing the trunk he pats it fondly and walks around to slide into the driver's seat. First thing first, Lance rolls the windows halway down.

Buckling up Lance grabs his sunglasses and slides them on. He checks himself out in the rearview mirror and fixes a few flyaway hairs before giving himself finger guns and starting the engine. Looking behind himself he reaches to switch the radio to AUX and shifts into reverse. Taylor Swift's voice fills the car and Lance's eyes flick to his mirror again as he mumbles the words to Taylor's new hit.

Letting off the break Lance belts out the chorus as he backs up out of the parking spot.

The muted _thunk_ has Lance slamming on the brakes so suddenly that the car jerks harshly, his blue eyes widening as the sound replays in his ears despite the upbeat Taylor Swift song on the radio. There was no one behind him a second ago – he just looked! Multiple times, like his driving instructor always said to!

Quickly putting the car into park Lance turns it off and rips his sunglass off, dragging his hands down his face.

Oh crap, what if he hit a dog? A dog that's wandering around in the parking lot of the grocery store...or a service dog!

Throwing the door open Lance stumbles out into the empty parking lot, mumbling under his breath. “Don't be a dog, don't be a dog.” Maybe he just ran over a really big rock? Or like, an empty cardboard box.

Stepping around the back of the car Lance sees what he hit and his jaw drops.

It's a guy, a young and possibly super cute if he wasn't frowning guy. His palms are upturned and safe thanks to the black fingerless gloves, although the fall has left his fingertips scratched up and bleeding and that sends Lance's stomach sinking like a rock.

“Did I hit you?” He blurts out and the guy looks up at him as if just noticing he was there.

Dark eyebrows pitch down into a scowl and it twists the guy's handsome face. “No, I just really wanted to get intimately acquainted with your bumper.”

Lance's eyes shift to the bumper and...is that a dent? But more importantly, is this guy making a _joke_? After he was just _run over?_

“I think you have a concussion.” Lance kneels down after his diagnosis, hands hovering for a few seconds before he reaches out and gently cradles the guy's hands in his own. The guy freezes at the warm touch but Lance doesn't notice, too busy trying to remember what he's seen on 'Grey's Anatomy' that he can apply to this real-life situation. “They don't look too bad. It's a good thing you're wearing these gloves, although this isn't the 80s anymore.” Sliding his thumb across a gloved palm Lance frowns. “But we should get you to the hospital for a checkup to be completely sure.”

“No.” Swatting Lance's hands away the brunet then proceeds to wipe his bloody fingers on his black jeans. Lance is horrified. “I'm fine.”

“Dude!” Lance cups the stranger's cheeks and shakes him slightly. That's probably not a good idea if he has some kind of concussion from the fall so Lance stops. “You've just been run over. You need to get checked out.”

Grabbing Lance's wrists in a cold grip the guy pulls them away from his face, then drops his hold as if he's been burned. “Dude,” he mocks in a snotty voice, pushing himself up to stand. “No, I don't. And I hardly call bumping into me 'running me over,' anyway.”

Lance gets to his feet and throws his hands up. “You're bleeding! What if your hands get infected and then you can't write or—or do anything that requires hands! That's not something to take lightly, you know?”

The guy stares at Lance for a few seconds before shrugging. “I've bled worse.” The grim smile does nothing to reassure Lance. His mouth moves wordlessly and the guy bends down to pick up two grocery bags and a few of the items that have tumbled out.

“Listen buddy,” Lance says, a hand on his hip and the other jabbing a finger at the stranger he almost ran over. “I really insist we go to the hospital so they can check you over. In fact, I'm not leaving until you let me help.”

Taking a grocery bag in each hand the dark haired guy makes an annoyed sound and tilts his head back to look past the few inches of their height difference. He raises a slim brow. “So, you're going to kidnap me?”

Lance flounders at the question, hand dropping to his side and then flinging out wildly. “What? No! I didn't say that!” His face is turning red and he glances around quickly to make sure no one overheard the accusation.

The parking lot is still empty.

“You just confessed to a plot that involves both stalking and forcing me somewhere against my will,” the guy points out and is that a grin? “Or did I mishear you?”

“Yes, you most certainly did mishear me!” Lance has to step to the side to block the guy from walking past him. “Please, I just want to help.”

“Then do us both a favor and forget this ever happened.” The stranger glares a second longer before he ducks past Lance and makes for the sidewalk.

It only takes a few seconds for Lance to grab his keys and lock the car before he's hurrying after the stranger. “Hey, wait up! Come on, I know you can hear me.”

The guy replies without breaking stride or looking at Lance. “Go away.”

“I just want to...” Lance reaches out to grab the guy's arm and stop him but finds his wrist caught in an iron grip. It's almost comical since the plastic grocery bag handles are looped around the guy's wrists like a set of tacky bracelets.

“Don't touch me.” He squeezes Lance's wrist and gets a wince, letting go just as quickly and adjusting his grocery bags. When Lance falls into step with him the brunet guy nearly growls in frustration. “I could be a serial killer, you know. Don't you watch any of those horribly cliché horror movies? Some of them start like this.”

Lance hazards a look at the guy's grocery bags and can see the left one entirely full of cup noodles in pink Hello Kitty packaging. He raises a slim eyebrow. “Fair point but I think I'll take my chances.”

“They're cheaper than the regular ones,” is the grumbled reply. Moving the bag to his other hand as if to hide it the guy frowns. “Has anyone ever told you that you're annoying?”

“I like to think of it as charming persistence.” Lance flashes him a smile. “I'm Lance, by the way. And you are?”

“Walking away from you.”

“That's okay, I'll guess.” Lance stuffs his hands into his back pockets and kicks a rock on the sidewalk. “Roger? Gaspard? No, not modern enough.” Lance snaps his fingers as he tries to think. “What's something edgy? Sebastian? It's not something with an x in it, is it? Like Xander or Jax? Oh wait, I've got it. Zain!”

The guy snorts and shakes his head. Lance notices him looking his way out of the corner of his eye. “Keith,” he says finally, grudgingly. Frowning as if he's just spilled some kind of dark secret.

Lance can tell that Keith is still looking at him out of the corner of his eye, probably waiting for the judgement of his x-less name. “So, _Keith_. Are you sure you're feeling okay? No loss of feeling in your fingers? Dizziness or blurred vision?” Three fingers are held up on Lance's right hand. “How many fingers?”

“For the tenth time, I'm fine.” Keith stops in the middle of the sidewalk and turns to face Lance. “I get that you're worried about me contacting the police but I'm not going to press charges or anything. I don't want your money.”

“Wait, what?” Lance gives Keith a wide-eyed look and flings his arms out. “I'm worried for you as a _person_ , Keith! I _hit you with my car.”_ Each word is spoken slowly and Lance's distress only heightens when Keith remains silent. “Maybe you did hit your head harder than I thought.”

Keith stares at Lance with an unreadable look on his face. He tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy and Lance takes a step forward to wrap his arms around the guy who's practically a stranger.

There are a few long seconds of silence.

“What are you doing?” Keith's body has tensed up under Lance's loose hold.

“I'm hugging you.”

After a few seconds Keith pushes him away and scowls. “I said–”

“Don't touch, yeah, I know. Sorry, you just looked like you needed a hug.” Lance leans in a little and squints, hands on his hips. “Are you blushing?”

“No!” Keith is most certainly blushing but it's barely noticeable. Lance still smiles. “You're annoying,” Keith mutters and adjusts the grocery bags back to one for each hand.

A smile spreads across Lance's face and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Don't you mean persistently charming.” He shoots double finger guns at Keith.

A soft huff of laughter escapes Keith and Lance perks up a bit at the sound, only for Keith to cough and frown again. Before he can say anything else Lance waves his hands in front of himself. “Wait! Why don't I drive you home? I promise I'm not a serial killer. I just want to help out and if the hospital is out of the question then at least let me drive you home.” He claps his hands together in front of his chest and does his best puppy eyes. “Please.”

Keith opens his mouth to refuse but ends up sighing, shifting from one foot to the other as his eyes cut to the side. “Fine,” he forces out and takes a step back when Lance whoops and throws a fist into the air. “But I still think you're annoying.”

“Thank you, Keith! It'll be the smoothest ride home, I promise. I'll even let you pick the music. I have like a million songs on my iPod so I'm sure there's something you'll like.” Lance reaches for one of Keith's bags and untangles it from his wrist smoothly. “Maybe some Fall Out Boy?”

Scoffing loudly Keith begins following Lance back down the sidewalk, the taller boy walking backward and wearing a shit-eating grin when Keith mumbles, “Their stuff isn't _that_ bad.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive comments and kudos, they really do help motivate me! I'm glad this story has gathered some interest! :D
> 
> And thanks to Lina for listening to me babble about ideas for this story and reading through it for me!

* * *

* * *

If there was one thing Lance could pride himself on, it would be his ability to be subtle when the situation called for it. 

So maybe if he went to the grocery store next week around the same time and on the same day he might coincidentally bump into the mysterious cup noodle loving Keith. And maybe this time he should walk to the store instead of taking his car, just to be safe. 

Lance is mulling this idea over as he opens the door to Altea Brew, the thick scent of delicious coffee hitting him like a brick wall and sending him rocking backward. Except a scent can't really do that so maybe he miscalculated his steps and really did run into the wall.

An arm shoots out and grabs one of his flailing ones, yanking him with enough strength that Lance almost topples forward. “Whoa,” Lance says with a rush of breath, blinking up at the familiar stranger that caught him. “Keith?”

Keith's arm is snug around Lance's waist and their position is almost comical, like they've been ballroom dancing and Keith has suddenly dipped him. The hold seems effortless on Keith's part, his arms steady even with Lance's added weight.

“Dude, great reflexes.” Lance says and Keith hauls him up properly, quickly dropping his arms and taking a step back. 

Keith crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you always so clumsy?”

“You're the only one I'm falling for,” Lance winks at Keith and feels something flutter in his chest when Keith's cheeks do that barely noticeable flush thing. He then notices the coffee spilled all over the floor below them. “Oh crap.”

“Not to worry, boys!” Coran appears with a mop, twirling it with far too much gusto. “Accidents like these happen more often than you'd think. This will be gone in a tic.” He winks at the two of them and Lance apologizes again for the mess, offering to help although Coran has the spill cleaned up in under a minute.

Keith picks up the plastic cup that had once held his iced coffee and tosses it into the trash bin. He makes for the door but Lance quickly steps into the way. “Wait, wait! I'll buy you a new one. A coffee. Whatever you'd like.” Keith raises a brow and Lance ushers him away from the door so people can come and go. “Since I made you drop the last one and all.”

“You don't have to,” Keith tries but Lance places a hand on the small of his back and urges him toward the counter.

“I _want_ to. And you did save me from an unfortunate meeting with the ground so thanks for that, too.” After a few more reassuring smiles from Lance, Keith finally steps into the small line in front of the counter. His eyes dart to the door and Lance wonders if he'll try to make a break for it.

Rocking on his heels Lance clasps his hands behind his back. “So, what are you going to get?”

“Iced coffee.”

“Really? I pegged you for a bubble tea kind of guy.” Lance is pleased when Keith hums instead of scoffing.

“I do like bubble tea,” he admits with a glance back to the menu. “But right now coffee sounds better.”

Nodding Lance takes a step closer as the line moves. “I agree, you can't go wrong with coffee. Unless it's like 2am and you're drinking it while stuffing your face with Cheetos and binge watching Netflix shows instead of sleeping, knowing that you have an exam at eight in the morning.” Lance laughs awkwardly for oversharing, looking at the menu without really seeing it. “But _anyway_ , what kind of flavoring are you going to get?”

Keith tilts his head back a bit and looks at Lance over his shoulder. The motion causes a gap by the neckline of his t-shirt and Lance gets a glimpse of scar tissue tearing wide across Keith's shoulder. It disappears again when Keith shrugs. “I've never gotten a flavor. Just coffee and that fake cream stuff.”

“What?” Lance drops his mouth open comically and it gets a twitch of a smile from Keith. “You don't add a flavor? Not even caramel or coconut?” He gasps dramatically. “What about chocolate banana?”

When Keith shakes his head Lance lifts a hand to smack his own forehead. “Keith, buddy, you haven't _lived_ if you haven't had flavored coffee. Honestly, I can't believe this.” They step up behind the last person between them and ordering. “Okay, time to test our bond. I need you to trust me, Keith.” Without so much as a pause Lance places his hands on Keith's shoulders to direct his full attention on him. Keith mouths the word 'bond' in confusion. “Will you let me order you the best coffee you've ever tasted? The best coffee this good earth and fine establishment has to offer?” Keith stares at Lance as if there's a storm of internal debate going on inside of him before he hesitantly nods.

“Uh, sure?”

Lance throws his hands up in the air. “Perfect!” Spinning around he scans the menu board one last time as the person in front of them collects their change. When they step up to the counter Lance launches into a cheesy pick-up line that easily transitions into a coffee order, the blonde girl writing their names on plastic cups and taking Lance's money as they chat about the upcoming summer heat. Out of the corner of his eye Lance can see Keith standing beside him awkwardly, hands shoved into his pockets and a frown on his face.

Ugh, why is that frown so cute?

Wait, what?

When they step down to the other end of the counter to wait Lance brushes his shoulder against Keith's in an easy gesture. “Are you excited to try the coffee I've chosen for you by going through a painstakingly meticulous selection process?”

“You thought about it for like, ten seconds,” Keith points out.

Lance waves a hand in the air to dismiss his negativity. “Ten seconds is all I need.”

Keith raises an eyebrow and his eyes flick downward for a brief second, making Lance realize what he's said and sending him into a fit of blushing and denial.

“That's not—I didn't mean it like _that!_ I can definitely last longer than ten seconds, not that _you'd_ need to know that for any reason! I just meant—”

“Lancey Lance and...” The barista squints at the second cup. “Keef?”

“Thank you, god.” Lance steps up to the counter and grabs the iced coffees, taking his time to punch a bright pink straw into each. He thrusts one at Keith and meets his gaze despite the lingering blush that stains his cheeks. “Here, try it.”

Their fingers brush when Keith takes the cup and Lance feels the tingle all the way down in his toes. He almost misses Keith's soft 'thanks' before he takes a sip of the concoction. More people begin crowding the waiting area and Lance takes Keith's free hand to lead him toward a free table.

“Well, what do you think?” Lance hasn't taken a sip of his own coffee because he's too nervous for Keith's reaction. Not that he'd let that show, of course. He slides onto a high stool by the giant window and nods toward the empty seat next to him.

Hesitantly Keith takes a seat, perched on the edge of the stool as if he's ready to hightail it out of the shop at any given moment. Taking another drink Keith looks up at Lance and offers a small smile. “It's... really good,” he confesses, as if surprised.

“Right?” Lance deflates in relief, sprawling across the small counter top. Lifting his head a bit he finally takes a sip of his own coffee. “Chocolate banana is the best flavor, hands down. But the seasonal ones can be good, too. I think next week they'll release a few.” Keith nods silently. Outside the window a jogger passes by and a bird lands on the sidewalk to pick at something. Lance fidgets in his seat. “So uh, what are you up to today?”

“Getting coffee.” Keith turns to look at Lance after a few seconds, chewing on his straw in a way that Lance can't look away from. It pops free when Keith straightens, frowning. “What?”

“Nothing! Geez, Keith. Why are you always so defensive?” Lance kicks the wooden wall beneath the window and swirls the ice around in his cup. “I was just making conversation. Like, you know, _normal_ people.”

Letting out a huff Keith turns his gaze back to the sidewalk. “First you spill my coffee, then you insult me. Is this normal for you? Wait, don't answer that. It probably is.” If possible, Keith aggressively sucks up his coffee.

Lance leans over a little bit, an amused smile playing on his face. “Why don't you get to know me and find out?”

“Why don't _you_ get to know _me_ and find out?” Keith fires back and Lance can tell the words catch up to him after he's already spit them out. “Uhh..”

“That's a great idea!” A bright smile spreads on Lance's face and Keith flounders. “Let's exchange numbers!” Pulling out his phone from his pocket Lance sets it on the counter, the bright orange case standing out against the dark wood. He nudges it toward Keith and makes a grabbing motion. “Hand me yours?”

Staring at the phone touching his arm Keith's patented frown comes back into play. “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

Lance falters. “Why not?”

Keith looks up at him and Lance tries to keep his expression neutral. Maybe he read into this—read _Keith_ all wrong. Maybe Keith doesn't like him at all and would really rather never see him again, which is a shame because Lance is really starting to like his quirky personality.

“I...” Keith opens his mouth, then closes it. Makes a few faces and clenches the fist he has resting on his thigh. After a few seconds Lance takes a long sip of iced coffee and interrupts Keith's inner struggle to shoot him down.

“Well, okay. Sorry about that.” Laughing awkwardly Lance takes his phone back and slides it into his pocket, remaining cool, calm and collected. Scooting the stool away from the counter he gets to his feet. “I'll just uh, leave you alone then. Sorry for spilling your coffee earlier. Maybe I'll see you around sometime.” Or not. Offering Keith a horribly fake smile Lance takes a step back, only for Keith to reach out and grab his shirt.

“Wait.”

Lance does, pushing down the thing swelling in his chest. Is it hope? Indigestion?

“It's not you, I—”

The thing pops and deflates, spiraling down to a fiery pit inside Lance. “Are you seriously going to use that line?” Placing a hand on his hip Lance completely ignores the few looks he's getting. “The 'it's not you, it's me' line? All I wanted was to be your friend! I wasn't trying to hit on you.” Lance pauses. “Because if I _was_ trying to charm you, you'd know it!”

Keith is watching him with wide eyes. They narrow almost immediately. “Listen, we both know that if you were really trying to hit on me with those cheesy lines you keep pulling, I'd have no problem shooting you down. Your pick-up lines are straight out of cliché 90s movies and you know it.”

“What?!” A finger is thrust at Keith's chest. “You take that back, _Mullet!”_

Keith grins and shakes his head, setting his cup down as he snorts and then starts to laugh. The sound is so unexpected but welcomed to Lance's ears that the fight drains from his body and he's left laughing as well. Lance drops back onto the stool beside Keith and puts his coffee on the counter, smiling as he watches the condensation slide down the side.

A shoulder bumps against Lance's and he looks at what Keith slides his way. A sleek black phone without a protective case. It figures. “Hand me yours?” Keith mumbles.

Lance breaks out into a smile to rival the sun, passing his phone over. Picking up Keith's and opening a new contact form Lance quickly types in 'Lancey Lance' and adds the sunglasses wearing emoji before entering his number. He debates taking a selfie and setting it as his contact photo but maybe it's best to start off slow with Keith.

Keith already has Lance's phone pushed back toward him and is chewing on his straw again. “You should get a case for your phone,” he points out and Keith shrugs, pocketing the device without looking at it.

As the afternoon rush begins to set in Lance can tell Keith is starting to get antsy, his leg bouncing and his eyes darting around the coffee shop as he listens to Lance talk. Leaning over Lance nudges Keith's shoulder and motions toward the door. “Want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” Keith says immediately but Lance doesn't take it personally. They make their way through the crowd of coffee addicts and toward the door, Lance reaching for the handle and pulling it open.

A glint of light across the room catches his eye and Lance stares at the pattern of small mirrors in the shape of a star on the far wall. It must be a trick of light or the angle he's at because he can't see—

“Are you going to stand there and let all the air conditioning out or are you coming?” Blinking Lance turns to look at Keith standing just outside the door, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Yeah, sorry.” Stepping out the door Lance lets it fall closed behind them. Keith tosses his empty cup into the bin outside the shop and Lance finishes his coffee to do the same. “So,” he says after a few seconds of silence, rocking on his heels. “Can I text you later?”

Keith looks at him and nods. “But keep the cheesy lines to a minimum. I think I've reached my limit today.”

Lance is over the moon excited because Keith just made a joke! He imitates Keith's trademark scoff but grins. “Just for that, I'm going to send you one every day.”

“Blocked.” Keith turns around and starts walking.

Cupping his hands around his mouth Lance shouts. “Bye Keith! I'll text you later!”

Keith doesn't turn around but he does lift his hand and give it a little wave so Lance counts it as a win. Coffee and a wave, this is his lucky day.

Long after Keith's disappeared from sight Lance pulls his phone out and scrolls through his contacts. He doesn't find Keith right away and his shoulders slump a little, but only until he sees a new contact under _'that guy you almost ran over'_ and then he laughs, startling a few nearby pigeons into taking flight.

Selecting one of his recent calls Lance holds the phone up to his ear as he begins to walk, his arm flying out excitedly when the call connects. “Hunk! You're never going to _believe_ who I ran into today! What—no, not David Hasselhoff. Keith - from yesterday! Grocery store Keith! And we had coffee. Together! Are you home? Okay good, I'm coming over!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the comments and kudos, I appreciate every single one! :D

* * *

 

Lance flops onto Hunk's bed, grabbing a pillow and rolling to the side to he can squeeze it to his chest.

Pidge looks up from her perch on the giant beanbag chair and rolls her eyes. “You're being weird again.” Her fingers fly over the computer's keyboard. “You do realize you're obsessing over a guy you know almost nothing about, right?”

“She's right.” Hunk swivels around in the desk chair when Lance lets out a huff. “We're not saying he's a bad guy or anything. But you've been on how many dates now and what do you really know about him?”

“They're not _dates_ , Hunk. They're just casual outings between two almost-friends,” Lance stresses as he sits up, ears a bit pink. “And I know loads about him!” Lance cocks his arm back and throws the pillow at Pidge when she fake coughs 'bullshit' into her hand. Pidge knocks the pillow aside and flips him off. “I know he's a guy who likes coffee and bubble tea, buys groceries at the supermarket on Third Street and eats lots of cup noodles.”

Hunk and Pidge stare at Lance as if waiting for him to say he's joking. Hunk's frown deepens a bit as he tinkers with the disassembled alarm clock in his hand, Lance clearly having no intention of admitting that they're right. “I wouldn't really call that loads, Lance,” he says with a glance at Pidge. “That's...almost nothing.”

Perking up a bit Pidge adjusts her glasses and clicks something on her computer. “Let's Google him. What's his last name?” She stares at Lance as he opens his mouth to reply, then closes it. What _is_ Keith's last name? Pidge snorts. “You don't even know his last name?”

Lance throws his hands up in the air. “It never came up!”

“How can it never come up? That's like, basic introductory conversation!”

“It was hard enough getting his _first_ name when we met.” Sliding his fingers through his hair Lance pushes it back. “And I guess I never really thought about it.”

Hunk shakes his head, setting the clock down on the desk. “We're not saying you shouldn't be friends with this guy, Lance,” he starts and Lance turns toward him. “But it sounds like you're already crushing hard and you don't even know his last name. Maybe ask him some basic stuff, you know, learn more about him?”

Lance nearly falls off the bed, his arms waving in front of him. “Crushing? Ha, what? I don't have a crush on Keith!”

Pidge holds her hand up to her ear like a phone, pitching her voice to mimic Lance. “Pidge, he's got these eyes that are so dark and mysterious, like entire galaxies swirl within them. And while we were walking from the coffee shop he stretched his arms and I swear I saw heaven when his shirt rode up.”

“Wha—I didn't say that!”

“Yeah, Pidge,” Hunk says as he points the end of the screwdriver at her, lifting his free hand up to his own ear. “It was 'I swear I almost walked into a lamp post when his shirt rode up.'”

Throwing his hands up in the air Lance flops onto his back. “Why do I even tell you guys anything? Why are we friends?” Grabbing a pillow Lance attempts to smother himself with it.

A rush of breath leaves him when something heavy drops across his stomach. The pillow is pulled away and Lance glares up at Pidge. “You know we're just looking out for you.” She pokes Lance in the cheek. “We don't care that you're crushing on Keith, but you have to at least admit it. And admit it's weird you don't know his last name. How am I supposed to Google him, or even look him up on Facebook?”

Reaching out Lance ruffles Pidge's mess of hair and grins when she swats at his hand and sits up beside him. “I'll admit it's a little strange I don't know his last name,” he says and Pidge rolls her eyes. “But there are stranger things I've noticed about Keith.”

Hunk frowns. “Like what?”

Lance shrugs a shoulder. “Just some stuff, like the mirror thing.” Before he can elaborate his phone blips with a new text message. Three sets of eyes fall on Lance's phone sitting on the end of the bed and Pidge grins before launching herself at it.

“Pidge!” Lance is a second behind her, flinging his body forward and landing on top of Pidge. Swatting at her grabbing hands Lance scoops up the phone and tries not to fall off the bed when Pidge thrashes beneath him. “Hunk, assist! Assist!”

“Nah uh, I'm not getting into that mess,” Hunk says as he gestures toward the two of them. “I'm going to get snacks. No killing each other. Or seriously maiming, Pidge.” Pushing off the desk chair he slips out of the bedroom.

Rolling off of a flailing Pidge Lance sticks his tongue out at her and holds the phone safely against his chest. Pidge grumbles and growls as she straights up, leaning against the headboard and _accidentally_ kicking Lance as she reaches for her computer on the beanbag chair.

Lance swipes his thumb across the phone's screen and opens the text from Keith. It's not often Keith initiates conversation so Lance has to take what he can get.

A smile spreads across Lance's face when he sees the suggestion Keith has offered in text form, completely devoid of emojis but with perfect punctuation. And the part that says '...could make dinner here or something...' sounds suspiciously like a _date_ date and Lance ignores Pidge's fake gagging as he replies, smiling the entire time he fills the text with exclamation points and emojis.

And Lance admits it when Hunk comes back in carrying a plate of double chocolate cookies, taking one in each hand. “Okay, yes, I do have a teeny tiny crush on Keith and now possibly a _date_ date I mean, he didn't call it a date but it sounds like one. So please help me with what I'm going to wear!”

* * *

 

When Lance arrives at Keith's place a few days later he doesn't hesitate to knock, the door opening after the second knock. A confused look steals across Keith's face at finding Lance on his doorstep and paired with the fact that Keith's hair is a mess and he's wearing a baggy t-shirt and boxer shorts tells Lance that he must have forgotten their dinner date—outing(inning?)—thing.

Not letting his disappointment show Lance tries to shuffle the grocery bags behind his back as he smiles. “We can reschedule.”

Keith makes a face and reaches out to grab Lance's collar and pull him inside. “I was just taking a nap. Give me five minutes and I'll put some clothes on,” he says as he watches Lance try to slip out of his shoes without falling over.

“You don't have to rush.” Lance looks around the small hallway and follows Keith deeper into the apartment. “And if you're tired we can reschedule, it's not a big deal.”

“Five minutes,” Keith repeats before disappearing down the hallway. A door slams shut a second later and Lance rocks on his feet as he looks around.

There are blackout panels over every window to keep the place dark but luckily a small lamp is switched on by the couch. Keith's apartment is surprisingly clean and Lance only sees a few books lying here and there so it's hardly a mess.

There are no photos on the walls but a few landscape paintings that look like stuff from a fantasy novel. Lance grins because it only reinforces the fact that Keith is as big of a nerd as he is.

Carrying the bags to what he hopes is the kitchen Lance sets them on the counter. There are a couple bowls in the sink but other than that Keith's kitchen looks practically unused. Taking the ingredients out of the bags Lance puts the perishable ones in the nearly empty fridge. He makes a note to remind Keith to get groceries.

Being the kind soul that he is, Lance also got a few necessities for Keith at the store. The family-size package of Oreos aren't necessarily needed for dinner but you can't ever have too many Oreos. The same goes for jello cups. Opening a cupboard Lance stares at three shelves of Hello Kitty noodle packages lined up inside. “Oh, Keith,” Lance murmurs to himself as he clears room on a shelf for the cookies. “Don't you know how bad all that sodium is? Especially for your skin!”

They'll have to do masks the next time Lance comes over. Or maybe Keith can come to his place. Just the thought of pressing a sheet mask to Keith's face brings Lance satisfaction. His skin will surely thank him, even if Keith won't.

“Hey.”

“Shit!” Lance nearly smacks his head on the cupboard door as he spins around. Keith is standing behind him, hair damp and curling against his neck. He's in his usual black t-shirt but he's traded in his dark jeans for a pair of black sweatpants. “Don't scare me like that!”

“Maybe if you were less focused on judging my cup noodles you would have heard me come down the hall.” Keith grins when Lance sticks his tongue out. “So what are we making?”

“Well, I was...wait, _we_?” Lance tries not to look too hopeful. He fails.

Keith looks away from him, scratching idly at his neck. “Well, yeah. Weren't you just going on and on about how you wanted to sign up for those 'couple' cooking classes Hunk and Shay are taking but then missed the deadline?” Keith flicks his gaze back to Lance. “If you don't want my help, you can just say so.”

Eyes wide, Lance waves his arms in front of himself. “No, no! I want your help! It'll be fun, we can have our own cooking class!” When Keith's doubtful look doesn't change Lance smiles at him and takes his hands, trying not to let his own shaking pair give him away. Keith mentioned the couples cooking, does that mean they are a couple?? “We can be the Iron Chefs of this kitchen!”

“The what?”

“Never mind! Come see what I got.” Tugging Keith to the refrigerator Lance opens it with as much flourish as he can muster. “I remembered that you can't have milk so I got stuff to make tacos!” Grabbing one of the few packages on the shelf Lance waves it in front of Keith. “And this is non-dairy cheese,” he says proudly. “My sister says it tastes the same as regular cheese and I trust her, so I think it will work.”

Putting the cheese back on the shelf Lance turns to Keith to ask what he thinks but the words catch on his tongue. Keith is looking at him like he's the only person in the whole world and Lance's cheeks flush under his gaze. “What?”

“Nothing.” Keith gives him a little smile. “Tacos sound good.” He looks around the small kitchen. “What do we do first?”

Lance holds a finger up and grabs his phone out of his back pocket. “First things first, we need some music. My mama always says that food tastes better if you play music while preparing it.” Lance opens an app and Keith steps closer to peer down at Lance's phone. “Fortunately for you, I've prepared us a cooking playlist just for such an occasion.”

“So prepared,” Keith teases, leaning against the edge of the counter. Beyoncé's voice fills the kitchen a second later and Keith rolls his eyes when Lance sets the phone on the counter and shakes his hips. “Oh my god,” he groans when the other boy does an exaggerated mock-sexy body roll, hands flying up to cover his eyes. “I can't ever unsee that.”

Lance laughs, grabbing Keith's wrists and tugging his hands away from his face. “You're welcome.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Keith snorts. The moment hangs between them, Lance's hands warm on Keith's skin and their faces close.

Keith twists his wrists and breaks Lance's hold, taking a step back. “So, step one is complete. Now what?”

Ignoring the sting that has no reason to surface Lance plasters a smile on his face. “We cook the meat and chop up the veggies.” Skating around Keith and pulling the refrigerator door open Lance grabs the tomatoes and head of lettuce. “Which job would you like?”

Keith watches him for a second before shrugging. “Whichever.”

Giving him a nod Lance pushes over a package of ground beef. “Grab a big pan and cookthat. Then you drain it and add the seasoning and some water.” Keith nods and goes to grab a pan that looks brand new, nothing like the dented or worn ones Lance is used to in his own kitchen.

The song changes a few times as Keith breaks up the cooking meat, Lance humming as he dices the tomatoes. He's in the middle of telling Keith about the double chocolate cookies he taste-tested for Hunk when the knife slips.

“Shit.” Lance tries to move his hand away so he won't get blood on the tomatoes. The cut is shallow and nothing major but when he reaches for the paper towels hanging on the wall Keith jerks away from him. “Keith?” Lance wraps the cut up.

Keith's eyes are wide and his body is rigid. The light coming in from the kitchen window plays tricks across his face, making his eyes look more red in color. Lance says Keith's name again, voice thick with concern. “Is it the blood?” Keith makes a strangled sound. “Oh shit, are you going to pass out?”

Finally looking away from Lance's hand Keith jolts away from the stove, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. Lance wonders if he's going to throw up. “ _Fuck_ , I have to go.” His voice sounds funny. Maybe he _is_ going to throw up. “Fuck, _fuck_. Not _now_.”

He doesn't seem to be talking _to_ Lance but Lance nods anyway and watches Keith stumble out of the kitchen, movements jerky and forced like he's walking against crashing waves. A few seconds later Lance hears a door slam. “I'll...finish up dinner,” he says to the empty kitchen.

And he does, adding the taco seasoning to the meat and shredding the lettuce. He disinfects the counter and washes the cutting board and knife. The playlist isn't very fun anymore but Lance sings along anyway, throwing glances down the hallway every now and then as he flips flour tortillas in a pan to warm them.

When everything is done Lance walks down the hallway to tell Keith, knocking on the door to the bedroom after he finds a bandage in the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. “Keith? Dinner's ready. I uh, cleaned everything up so it's safe to come out.”

The reply is muffled and Lance has to press his ear to the door to hear Keith's soft ' _I can't'_ clearly. Lance's shoulders slump but he nods even though Keith can't see him. “Okay, no big deal,” he says before heading back down the hallway. After a bit of searching finds an unopened box of storage glassware and washes everything before packing the food up.

Once everything is in the refrigerator Lance cleans up the kitchen, disinfecting the countertops one last time just to be safe. Lance walks back to the hallway and watches Keith's bedroom door for a few seconds before he walks over to it. Taking a deep breath Lance smiles at the hard wood in front of him. “Hey, Keith? I cleaned the kitchen up and the food's in the fridge for when you get hungry. I tossed the tomatoes and cut a new one up, so it's safe.” Silence lingers and Lance lifts a hand, then drops it. “I guess I'll see you later.” He hopes. Lance will definitely make sure not to bleed in Keith's presence again, at all costs.

Lance slips on his shoes and locks the door as he lets himself out, sliding his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He takes the stairs down to the building's entrance and makes a mental note to ask Pidge about a phobia concerning blood.

He's halfway down the sidewalk when his phone blips with Keith's signature text tone. Pausing for a second Lance decides to check it when he gets home. Sure, it's not Keith's fault that he's got a fear of blood but Lance is still bummed that the night was ruined by one dumb mistake on his part. Next time he'll make something that doesn't involve using a knife.

And maybe he'll bring up that 'couple' comment Keith made, possibly even discuss the subject of _boyfriends_.

Next time for sure.

Deciding to take a shortcut through the small park on the corner Lance stops for a second and tilts his head. A few crickets are chirping and a dog is barking somewhere behind him. Huh, weird. He could have sworn he heard something else.

Shrugging his shoulders Lance carries on through the park. He nearly has a heart attack when something explodes out of the bushes to his left. A scream rips from Lance's throat as he jumps back. “I don't have any money, I swear! I'm just ****—Keith?”

Keith's eyes are wide and there are small leaves sticking out of his hair. “Sorry,” he says quickly as he straightens up. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

“I wasn't scared,” Lance blurts out. A total lie. But he can't take it back now. “I wasn't. I just wasn't expecting you to come out of that bush. Or at all.”

“I know.” Raking a hand through his hair Keith makes a face when a twig falls out.

Lance reaches to help him pick out a few leaves but Keith flinches back. Oh, right. Stuffing his bandaged hand into his pocket Lance reaches to pull a leaf from Keith's hair with his free hand. “Are you...feeling better?”

“No,” Keith says bluntly. He then drags his hands over his face with a groan. “I'm sorry.”

Beyond confused, Lance frowns. “For?”

Keith throws his hands out. “For everything. For making a scene and ruining dinner. And then I didn't even help you clean up.”

“I don't care about that! Really, I didn't mind. Everything's still in the fridge, though. So you can eat it when you get hungry.”

“I don't want to eat it _without_ you!” The words startle both of them and Lance flushes lightly. Keith presses on. “I...” Keith looks down at his shoes, hands at his sides. “I'm not normal,” he finally forces out, clearly agitated as if his hands balled at his sides wasn't a clear indicator.

Lance shakes his head. “Keith, it's fine. Lots of people are afraid of blood! Or have other phobias.” Lance places a comforting hand on Keith's shoulder. The hand without the bandage. He smiles. “It doesn't make you abnormal, I promise. I like you just the way you are.”

Keith looks at him then, shoulders slumping under a tense weight he seems to be carrying since the whole kitchen accident. His voice is tired, exasperated and a little bit hopeful. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So understanding. So ready to reassure and comfort _me_ even though I upset _you_.”

Lance lets out a scoff. “I'm not upset! It takes more than locking yourself in the bedroom and missing the dinner we were making together to upset me.”

Keith's face drops into something that makes him look like a guilty puppy who's been kicked. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, I didn't mean it like that!” Lance takes a step closer, trying to duck his head to see Keith's face. “It came out wrong. I didn't mean to make you feel bad.”

“I'm sorry I ruined our date.” Keith says firmly and looks up at Lance with a new determination. “But I'd like to explain some stuff. But not here, I think there's a raccoon by that trash bin over there and I don't really want to find out if it has rabies or not.”

Lance is still caught up on 'our date,' his mouth opening and closing like a pet store goldfish. Date? _Date?!_

“ ****—so do you want to? Lance? _Lance!”_

Oh wait, Keith is talking again. 

“Yes, yep. I sure do.” Lance smiles. Smooth like butter. “Whatever you just said, I want to do it.”

Keith gives him a funny look, eyes narrowing before he drops it and shrugs. “Okay, good. Cool.” They stand there for a few awkward seconds before Keith coughs and straightens his shoulders. “Let's go.”

Spinning around Keith stalks out of the park and back the way they came, Lance jogging a few steps to catch up with him. Moving a half step closer Lance lets his pinky brush against Keith's and smiles the whole way back to the apartment when Keith doesn't pull away.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter picks up right from where the last one left off!

* * *

 

Standing awkwardly in the hallway Lance shifts from foot to foot. “So um...” He trails off and turns to watch Keith as he closes the door behind them.

Keith makes to take his shoes off but stops. Dark eyes flick up to Lance. “I want to explain but first I need to go get something. Can you wait here for a little bit? It shouldn't take longer than fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, uh. Sure.” Lance offers his best smile. “I'll just go sit,” he gestures toward the small living area.

“Or,” Keith hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could heat the food back up and we can eat when I get back? I mean, if you want to.”

Lance brightens at the suggestion. Maybe this date isn't a disaster after all. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.” He takes a step toward the kitchen but stops, spinning back around and throwing his arms around Keith. The hug lasts for about three seconds before he pulls back and laughs. “Sorry, just had to do that. But now I'll go heat up the food. In the kitchen.”

The smallest of smiles is tugging at the corner of Keith's mouth as Lance hurries down the hallway, ears colored a light pink. Grabbing the leftover containers from the fridge Lance stacks them on the counter and pauses to hear the apartment door click shut.

Feeling a lot better than he was thirty minutes ago Lance pulls out his phone and flips through his playlist until he finds a song with a bouncing beat. It doesn't take long for him to start singing along as he spreads the taco toppings out along the counter while the meat reheats on the stovetop.

Once everything is ready Lance digs out a pan to warm the tortillas and turns, finding Keith leaning against the kitchen doorway. He's watching Lance with an unreadable expression but there's more color to his face, cheeks flushed as if he's just run a mile. Maybe he just needed some air.

“Are they almost done?”

Lance nods, flipping a tortilla with a flick of his wrist. “Did you...are you good now?”

Keith crosses the kitchen and grabs two plates from the cupboard. “As good as I'll ever be,” he mumbles. “Considering the bomb I'm about to drop.”

“I think you're being dramatic.” Lance slides the warmed tortillas onto the plates and they begin assembling their tacos. When Keith avoids the tomatoes Lance bites his tongue and adds twice as many to his own taco.

They taste-test the cheese and deem it good enough to smother all over their food. Lance watches Keith try to fold his tortilla into something that resembles a burrito shape and has to stop him before the tortilla breaks from the strain of everything inside. “Keith, sides in! Tuck the sides in, man!”

“What?” Keith's gaze flicks from his taco to Lance's and he frowns. “How'd you get yours like that?”

“By tucking the sides in. Roll, tuck, roll. Here, let me show you?” He motions toward Keith's plate. Without hesitation Keith slides it over and leans against the counter to watch. “Okay, you roll it halfway like this. Then tuck the ends in so nothing can spill out. And then roll again to fold it all up. Ta-da! A perfect soft taco.”

“You're a taco wizard,” Keith agrees in a mumble. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I'll oversee the next one you make. It'll be easy.” Lance offers Keith a smile. “Now lets eat!”

Keith nods and leads Lance to the low table in the living area so they can sit. Silence overtakes them and Lance takes a bite of his taco, glancing around the living room. It smells faintly like lemons.

“I'm not normal,” Keith blurts out his statement from earlier. His taco sits untouched. “I'm not...human.”

Lance makes a face as he chews. “Okay. So what does that make you? An alien?” He points to the taco on Keith's plate. “Eat. Even if you aren't human you still have to eat.”

Keith picks it up with a sigh. He takes a big bite and gives Lance a look as if to say 'happy now?'

Lance is happy. “So, alien huh? I sure do know how to pick them,” he muses to himself over another bite and Keith kicks him in the knee. “Ow!”

“I was being serious.”

Averting his attention back to Keith Lance looks him over and frowns a little. Keith looks pale, like he might be sick. And his knee is bouncing in an obvious tell of being nervous or anxious. He also won't look at Lance, his eyes fixed on a framed watercolor print on the wall.

“Okay, I'm listening.” Lance pushes his empty plate away and folds his hands on the table. When Keith's gaze wanders back to his Lance nods.

“I'm not human.” Keith looks down at his plate, sliding his finger along a chip in the porcelain. “I'm a vampire.”

Lance blinks a few times, then tilts his head to the side. He rubs his palm against his ear for a minute in an attempt to clear it. “I'm sorry, you're a what?”

“A vampire.” Keith lifts his head and stares at Lance. A few more seconds of silence and then it all comes spilling out. “It's why I freaked out when you cut yourself. I hadn't fed in a while, I'd been meaning to but things kept coming up, and your blood smelled really...strong.” He looks away from Lance. “And so I had to 'remove myself from the situation' before I could hurt you. But I didn't _want_ to hurt you,” he quickly tries to reassure. “I don't ever want to hurt you, Lance. Or anyone.”

Keith looks so sincere about everything he's saying that Lance feels a little bad for calling him a nutcase in his head. So Keith thinks he's a vampire. Okay, it could be weirder. He could like to dissect animals in his basement or something, that's weirder. Or he could have a porcelain doll collection, those totally creep Lance out.

Actually, Lance hasn't seen the entirety of the apartment so Keith could have a doll collection. Lance shudders at the thought of doll-lined shelves in Keith's bedroom. No, thank you. They'll be hanging out at Lance's place from now on.

“Lance!” Lance whips his head up to look at Keith. Keith looks even more pale, if that's possible. Maybe he has a vitamin D deficiency or something? “Say something!”

“I think you might have a vitamin D deficiency or something.”

Silence settles between them. Keith opens his mouth, then closes it. He gets up from the floor and sits on the couch. A cat meows somewhere outside.

“Okay,” Keith says, blowing out a breath. He looks Lance in the eye. “Let's try this again. Lance, I'm a vampire.”

Lance points at him. “You've already said that.”

“I wasn't sure your brain was comprehending it since you suddenly commented on my vitamin D intake, or lack thereof,” Keith says in a snippy voice.

“Only because you're so pale! I'm sorry that I'm the only one concerned with your health but I didn't want you to pass out or—”

“I'm a _vampire_ , Lance! I'm supposed to be pale!”

“Like in _Twilight_?”

Keith scowls. If looks could kill, Lance would be six feet under. “Never say that again.”

Lance throws his hands up. “First you want me to say something, now you don't! Make up your mind!”

“I want you to take this seriously!”

“Fine!” Lance gets up from the floor. “But I need proof and answers.” He climbs into Keith's lap, thumbs pressing at the corners of his mouth to open it wide. “Do you have fangs?” Keith's eyes widen and Lance tilts his head a bit to try for a better view.

“ _Yesh.”_

Sliding a finger into Keith's mouth to feel around his top teeth Lance frowns when Keith's hand wraps around his wrist and yanks it away from his face. Before Keith can say anything Lance presses on with another question. “Do you drink blood?”

Keith makes a face and purses his lips. Lance is undeterred as he tugs his hand free of Keith's hold.

“Can you go out in the sunlight? Does the sun makes your skin burn and blister?”

“What—no!”

“No you can't go out in the sunlight or no to the bubbling blisters?” Lance demands to know, leaning in close and hanging on every word that might come from Keith's mouth.

“You've seen me in the sun!” Keith slaps a hand on Lance's chest and pushes him away. “Obviously I don't blister.”

“Maybe so, but your face does get red sometimes when we're out,” Lance points out and Keith huffs as he looks away. The next few seconds are oddly silent.

“Can you turn into a bat?”

“Okay, this was a mistake.” Keith shoves Lance off of his lap and onto the couch.

Pushing himself up from his sprawled starfish position Lance hurriedly flips around as Keith gets to his feet. “Wait, you didn't answer my question!”

Keith makes it all of five steps toward the door before Lance jumps onto his back, wrapping his arms and legs around Keith. It does nothing to effect his escape and Lance breaths against his ear. “Whoa, you're strong.”

“And you're a parasite.” Lance squawks indignantly and Keith smirks, hands moving to slide under Lance's thighs and support his weight better. Keith carries Lance back to the couch and sits down, squishing the taller boy back against the cushions.

“Keith!” Lance pushes against the worn t-shirt stretched across Keith's shoulders with a laugh. “I can't breathe! Everything is getting dark! _Abuelita_ , is that you?”

Rolling his eyes Keith leans forward a bit and Lance lets out an exaggerated breath of relief. Turning his head Keith looks over his shoulder and Lance swears to god his heart skips a beat at the look on Keith's face. Oh snap, what if he can hear Lance's heartbeat trying to burst out of his chest?

“Lance?”

“What?” Jolting back to himself Lance flops over when Keith scoots forward onto the edge of the cushion. Keith raises an eyebrow and Lance buries his face in the pillow while trying to curl up on his side, legs pressing against Keith's back. “Just let me die here.” Keith huffs out a laugh.

When the pressure against his legs disappears Lance peeks out from behind the pillow. Keith's thigh comes into view as he kneels on the couch and Lance is rolled onto his back. Resting one hand on the back of the couch Keith grins down at Lance. “Why are you dying on my couch?”

Lance puffs out his cheeks and looks away, face flushed. “Why are _you_ so cute?” He fires back and his eyes widen as he babbles on. “You're so rude. First you try to kill me and now you're trying to crush me with your supernaturally solid body.” He presses a hand to Keith's chest. “Do you have any manners? I wonder where all those authors and movie makers get the idea of well-behaved vampires. I mean honestly, it's such an inaccurate portrayal.”

Amusement brightens Keith's tone, a smile on his lips. “When did I try to kill you? As far as I can remember you where the one who tried to run me over with a car.”

“Just moments ago! You tried to squish me! Not the kind of death I would imagine coming from a vampire, though. Maybe be a bit more creative next time. I deserve better. Something with flair, preferably.”

Keith shakes his head. “I'm not going to kill you, Lance.”

Blinking up at Keith Lance lifts a hand like the third-grader he is. “Pinky promise?”

Keith just raises an eyebrow at him and his outstretched pinky.

“No promises, huh? Wait, do I smell tasty to you? Like a really good—”

One minute Lance is babbling and the next Keith is kissing him, lips cool and chapped but moving against Lance's own in an easy rhythm. He pulls back after a few seconds and Lance opens his eyes. When had he closed them?

“Whoa.” Lance watches Keith's cheeks flush a light pink. “So listen, I know we were having the 'I'm a vampire' conversation but can we put that on hold for a second and have the boyfriend conversation?” 

“You want to be my boyfriend? Even after I told you I'm a vampire—that I drink blood?” 

“Okay, so we're having both at the same time. Right.” Lance lifts his finger up between them. “Firstly, you never really answered the blood question until now. But thank you for being honest with me, belated as you were. Secondly, yes. I still want to be your boyfriend. Just because you dropped the Edward Cullen bomb on me doesn't mean—Keith, stop!” Lance breaks out in a fit of laughter when Keith flops down onto his chest. “You weigh a ton!”

Keith presses his face against Lance's shoulder. “Who's rude now?”

“Still you,” Lance wheezes. He jabs his fingers into Keith's sides until he lifts himself up once more, Lance sucking in air. “I think we should celebrate,” he says in a rush.

“Celebrate what?” Keith pushes himself up and sits properly on the couch. Lance stares at the ceiling for a few more seconds, mouth turned up in a smile.

“Becoming boyfriends, of course!” Sitting up Lance swings his legs around and bounces to his feet. His lips still tingle from the kiss. “Come on, let's go get some ice cream for dessert!”

Keith watches Lance as if he's some kind of alien. But he's smiling so Lance must at least be a cute alien. “But you brought Oreos for dessert.”

Waving a hand around Lance grabs one of Keith's and hauls him to his feet. “Oreos are great for getting a boyfriend, sure. But learning that said boyfriend is a vampire calls for something like pints of ice cream.”

“I can't even have ice cream,” Keith points out as Lance drags him toward the door.

“Oh Keith. My precious, sweet Keith.” Lance laces their fingers as they slip into their shoes. “Ben & Jerry's has at least six non-dairy flavors. Have you been living under a rock for the past ten years?”

Yanking the door open Lance tugs Keith out into the night as he babbles the pros and cons of Chunky Monkey and Cherry Garcia.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later and they're back at Keith's apartment, ten dollars poorer but two cartons of ice cream richer.

“What about garlic?” Lance stabs a spoon into his pint of ice cream to dig out a chunk of cookie dough.

Keith slides his own spoon out of his mouth. “What about it?”

“Can you eat it?” A small victory is achieved when Lance gets his spoon under the cookie dough and scoops it up, shoveling it into his mouth with the speed of someone who knows how ruthless siblings can be in the theft of frozen treats. “Just bite into a bulb of garlic like nom nom?” The face Keith makes has Lance nearly choking on his hard earned spoils.

“Would _you_ bite into a bulb of garlic?” Fishing out a chunk of brownie Keith pops it into his mouth and chews slowly to savor it. The fact that non-dairy ice cream exists is probably the second best thing he's heard all day.

Lance makes a face. “Ew, no.” A full body shiver goes through him at the thought of it.

Keith laughs. “Then why would I want to?”

“Okay, fair enough.” Lance points his spoon at Keith and waggles it around. “But can you eat it at all? Like in a sauce or on garlic bread?”

Offering a shrug Keith swirls his spoon around the last bit of chocolate ice cream in the carton. “I guess?”

“You _guess_?” Lance licks his spoon clean and sets it and the empty pint carton on the coffee table. Sitting back he turns his body to face Keith at the other end of the couch. He pokes Keith's thigh with his socked toes. “You don't know?”

“It's been a long time since I've eaten garlic bread,” Keith says almost cryptically. Lance wants to press the issue but the look on Keith's face before he drops his attention to the last of his ice cream has Lance filing the follow-up questions away for another time.

Slapping his hands on his knees Lance presses his toes against Keith's leg in a stretch as he smiles. “Okay then, we'll have garlic bread next time. Maybe some pasta, too.” Lance slips his toes beneath Keith's thigh and taps at his chin. “Maybe lasagna. Hunk makes the best lasagna.”

Keith finishes off his ice cream as Lance babbles about Hunk and his cooking skills. Gathering up the empty cartons and spoons Keith takes them to the kitchen and when he sits back down Lance scoots closer.

The bubble of personal space means nothing to Lance and after a few seconds of staring he shifts to sit with his knees pressing against Keith's leg. “So, boyfriends huh? Are you gonna, you know, ask me?”

Keith turns to look at Lance, head resting on the back of the couch. “You've already decided we were boyfriends. Asking you would be redundant.”

“Come on, Keith.” Lance leans his elbow on the couch and smiles. “Ask me anyway?” His stomach is fluttering with something that feels suspiciously like excitement. Was it just yesterday he was daydreaming about Keith asking him to be boyfriends? Yes, yes it was.

“Lance,” Keith starts, lifting a hand and tucking a lock of dark hair behind a pointed ear. Huh, how did Lance miss that until now? “Will you...” Keith looks up at Lance. “Back up out of my space here? This couch is plenty big enough for—oomph!” 

Swinging the pillow into Keith's face Lance laughs and tries to scramble backward. Keith grabs his ankle and somehow they end up falling onto the floor and wrestling for control, Keith coming out on top and holding himself up over Lance. “No fair, you used your vampire strength!” 

“Maybe you're just a sore loser.” Keith grins and leans down, lips hovering above Lance's. “Hey, Lance?” 

Lance feels half melted into the floor. Something that feels suspiciously like the television remote is digging into his back but all he can focus on is Keith above him. “Yeah?” 

“Be my boyfriend?” 

Lance's face breaks out into a smile and he leans up, pressing his mouth against Keith's and wrapping his arms around his neck. Keith makes a muffled sound against Lance's lips but then he's kissing him back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr - [[kuroshiroganee]](http://kuroshiroganee.tumblr.com/)


End file.
